Scandal and the Runaway Bride (Heirs to an Empire 1)

Their gazes held, and for the space of a held breath, they drifted close together. His heart pounded as his gaze dropped to her ripe lips. And then William broke the spell and stood abruptly.

“You’re right. We should get back. I want to start drafting a proposal and also work on travel arrangements.”

Gabi’s face shifted back to impersonal and friendly, thank goodness. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist her if she’d pushed their...intimacy. Was that what it was? This feeling that kept coming over him? She felt it, too, didn’t she? All the more reason to keep his distance now and get her back to Italy as soon as feasible.

“Of course,” she answered, also rising. She started back along the rows of the lemon trees, toward the château towering in the distance.

Maybe it had been a mistake bringing her here. William had only been thinking of privacy and seclusion. He hadn’t thought of the unintended consequences of being here together, yet alone.

They could be friendly. And friends. But anything more was impossible. He could never betray Stephen that way. Even if his brother wasn’t in love with Gabi, it would be wrong, wouldn’t it? Besides, if a runaway bride was a PR nightmare for Aurora, imagine what would follow if William suddenly showed up with her on his arm?

“You go on ahead. I’m going to...check on something.” He knew he sounded lame, but walking through the gardens and into the château together meant separating there and he wanted to kiss her so badly he could nearly taste her lips just from the mere thought.

“Thank you for the walk. And letting me get out a bit more.”

“Thank you for dinner,” he replied, and then made a turn on the path and headed in a different direction.

It was the best way. It was the only way.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE WALK IN the garden had been a mistake.

For the first time since her arrival, William had given her access to a laptop. “You need to see what’s happened,” he’d said, his voice brittle. He hadn’t shown her any tabloid links since that first day. Now, though, he’d given her full access. “I trust you won’t make this worse by responding to anything.” There’d been barely concealed anger in his tone. “This wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should have anticipated this would happen.”

But she stared at the picture and knew she wasn’t blameless. How could she be? A photog’s massive lens had done its job. Their identities were clear as they sat on the stone bench. And so was the fact that her hand was on his and they were gazing at each other dreamily. She could pass it off and say it was nothing more than gratitude, but she’d be wrong. She liked William, a lot. And that walk had been ridiculously romantic.

She muttered a stream of words in Italian that she hoped William couldn’t translate. He was on the other side of the room, talking on his cell, but his eyes never left her. Flat. Assessing. Because now she’d become another problem that needed solving.

For the first time since arriving, she got angry. Angry at Stephen for suggesting their crazy arrangement. Angry that he could have helped her without c

oercing her to marry him. And really, truly angry at herself for going along with it, and not being stronger in the face of her own personal crises. That was really why they were in this mess. It was up to her to get them out of this conundrum. She was done being a pawn in anyone’s agenda. And she was done reacting out of fear and distress.

And yet her heart seized as she thought of Baresi Textiles. If she made a misstep, it could all go wrong and she could add to her father’s burdens rather than solve them. But she had cards to play, didn’t she? And she could use them. For a week she’d been docile and nice and sweet and full of self-blame. Where had the self-assured, proactive woman she’d worked so hard to become gone? She didn’t like that when things went sideways, she’d made weak decisions. Well, no more. She was going to go home and she was going to handle the business until her father was well enough to come back.

She closed the browser, making the photo and the accompanying headline disappear. The fact that the article asked if the wedding had been called off because she was “cavorting” with the groom’s brother was too much.

It was time to go back to Perugia.

She rose from her chair and stood tall, then crossed the library to where William stood. “When you’re done your call, I want to speak with you.”

Then she turned and walked away. She was tired of doing everything on Pemberton terms. William had been kind, there was no doubt about that. And there were far worse things than spending a week in a château in Provence. But it hadn’t actually solved anything. Her guilt over leaving Stephen at the altar had prompted her to go along with the plan. That guilt was diminishing by the day.

The important thing was to get through this so that Baresi ended up in a strong position. That was the only consideration now.

She went to her room, that lovely, airy, restful room, and got her suitcase out of the wardrobe. Then she started packing it, piece by piece, folding each item carefully, the exact opposite of what she’d done on her arrival. She looked at the garment bag holding the wedding dress and closed the door of the wardrobe. She would leave it behind. There was no use for it now, and it was nothing more than dead weight to carry around.

William knocked and she latched the wardrobe door before saying, “Come in.”

He looked at the suitcase on the bed and his brows pulled together. “Going somewhere?”

“Home. This is ridiculous. I should have gone home in the first place. It’s where I belong.”

“I know this is a setback, but we’re dealing with it.”

She put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh. “William, I don’t want to be something you have to ‘deal with.’ I did everything you asked without complaint for the better part of a week and it changed nothing. If anything, it made things worse.” She tried to ignore the niggling fact that the press had picked up on some sort of attraction between them. One they wouldn’t act on but that was there just the same.

“It’s my fault. I suggested the walk. It had been quiet, and I didn’t consider someone would be out there with a massive camera lens. I got careless.”